Show Me
by Spooky Bibi
Summary: Dave has grown tired of waiting. Kurt can't say what he needs to hear. They can only grow apart. Or maybe a usually quiet place can be the stage of a reunion Dave never dared to dream. For absinthfairy.


He won't see Kurt, he knows that now. Not just coming through those glass doors, but anywhere else as well. Ever. It's expected. After all, he did give him an ultimatum.

Yet he's still got his eyes fixed on the entrance of the library, watching. Actually, just seeing because his attention is secured by his memories. He can think of little else. So much for running away from the pain this time.

…

"Why can't you just tell me? Really Kurt, it's not that hard. Just answer the fucking question: Do. You. Love. Me?"

"I-I… It's more complicated than that Dave. You have to give me more time. It's… We were… Nothing is… I just don't know."

"Damn it! This is bullshit Kurt! You DO know, you can't admit it to me, or to yourself."

He paced around the living room. God, that living room. He had felt more at home in here than in his own apartment. After three years in New York, two of being in the same building, he still never got that comforting feeling elsewhere but on Kurt's antique couch. He had to admit, being in that room came with its fair share of aching as well. A aching he had to get out in the open, right now.

"Look, I waited, for so long. Years. And I'm still waiting, but I really can't anymore. At some point, you're going to have to answer, because I've been asking you since… I don't even remember. I say _I love you_, you laugh and say I'm silly. I'm there for you, when a guy or the world lets you down, you tell me I'm such a nice friend." He sighed, sat down on the armchair (not the couch, not now) and looked up to Kurt, who was just standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "We make out, like last night, and fuck if you don't just explain that it's nothing, that it's just the result of too much alcohol. That it doesn't matter, it's not important."

For a second he remained silent, eyes locked on Kurt's, accusing. Then it seemed as though all will to fight was leaving him. He was just fed up and uncomfortable. He slowly got up, wiped his hands on his pants. How he still got nervous around him at times was beyond him. "I'm done, Kurt." Kurt sent him a weird, questioning look as he passed him by to reach the front door of the studio.

"What-What do you mean David?" he heard behind him. It almost sounded… panicked.

"It means: to me it mattered. To me it's important. It means that I meant everything I said to you. It also means that I know you have feelings for me, but if you won't do something about them, if you won't _finally_ open up, then you can forget me. I won't be coming around anymore. Do the same, please. Don't call me, don't come to my place, if you see me in the hallways, turn around. It's… I have to protect myself. I-I just can't take it. Unless…"

He glanced at Kurt, still standing in the same spot. Pale, troubled, maybe. Most of all, he was silent.

"Yeah" Dave continued. "Thought so." When he reached for the doorknob, he stopped one last time. "If… if you change your mind, come find me. Ortherwise… Well, you know. Bye, Fancy."

He wanted to use that nickname, one last time probably.

He left. Nothing, no one stopped him.

…

The only refuge that came to mind once he was outside was the public library. The anonymity, the silence, the seclusion, it was everything he needed. It seemed a good idea at first.

Now, stuck in an unusually busy place, with the only vacant table the one right in front of the entrance, with thoughts swarming his mind, it wasn't as much of a solace as he expected.

He shakes his head in defeat, still looking at the door anyway. With one hand, he searches in his coat pocket for his iPod. He can't stop hoping but he can try to drown his thoughts. Baby steps.

Within minutes, he realizes his mistake, another one. It's worse. He can skip all he wants, every song is a reminder.

The many 80's pop songs, from that strange night 3 months ago, when they thought they should get every number one, of every month of the decade. They sang them too.

The Jerry Maguire soundtrack, the only time Kurt enjoyed a sports movie. At least, he enjoyed Rod Tidwell's butt.

The large amount of grunge music, his own preference. Also known as the background music to the many road trips they made whenever they had a free weekend.

With such a collection, it's no surprise he's growing more and more frustrated with each new song. Tapping his pen against the table or the useless notebook (seriously, what was he thinking, attempting to do homework at a time like this), he tries to keep his composure. It's rather unsuccessful, anger, hurt, regret all rise inside. It must translate to his face and given the look the girl at the table across from his is sending him, it really does.

His eyes strayed from the doors a mere second but apparently it was enough for Kurt to magically appear behind them. His pen is dropped instantly. He's not able to do much more, Kurt is briskly walking in his direction and stops right next to his seat.

A million questions flood him, making it suddenly hard to breathe. Pushing the chair back, getting up and ripping the ear buds out, it's all done without him realizing it. He does realize the state Kurt's in.

The man in front of him is flustered. Red cheeks, short breaths. There's more. Some signs that are sending shivers down his spine.

Bright eyes, so bright. A smile, both shy and expectant. An overall nervousness in his demeanor.

He doesn't want to believe it, at first. Too many hopes repeatedly crushed. He's used to doubt, rightfully. How could he have changed his mind so quickly?

But it must be real. They've grown to know each other so well. They can carry an entire conversation with looks if necessary. They did it once, at that party where both of them were bored out of their minds yet stuck with their respective dates. They're doing it again.

So when Kurt is staring at him, his lips trembling, when he is wordlessly saying _I'm sorry. I love you. I really do. I'm so, so sorry_, Dave has no choice but to hear him. Loud and clear.

In one move, he embraces Kurt, pulls him so close he's basically glued to him. Kurt lets out a huge breath and then Dave knows he's relieved. He is as well, because this is right. Holding Kurt, crushing him against him, feeling him return the hug just as tightly, it's what should be. The best part is, he knows it's what will be.

They pull apart, slowly. It's easy, not forced or awkward anymore. They share a smile. After all the misunderstandings and pain, it's that simple. When they lean toward each other, they don't need to ask or wonder. Dave just tilts his head, eyelids closing, Kurt follows his lead.

Their lips touch, delicately at first. Once Dave's hand finds its way up Kurt's back and wraps around his nape, it becomes passionate. No care is given to the place they are, to the people that can see them. Dave moans quietly, tastes every millimeter of Kurt's mouth. Nipping gently, he coaxes him to reciprocate and takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. It feels as though Kurt is melting in his arms when his tongue starts caressing his.

It's nothing like the times they kissed before. Not even close. It's not one-sided affection confronting boredom. It's unison, at long last. Kurt is grabbing at Dave's shirt, desperately, he's returning the kiss with a passion that makes Dave's heart want to burst out of his chest.

A full minute goes by before any of them come back down to the real world. Kurt pulls away, panting in delicious manner that Dave thoroughly appreciates. They stay close, their noses almost touching, their breaths mingling. Savoring the moment, the closeness, neither is willing to get any farther.

Dave chuckles softly, finally opens his eyes and catches Kurt's happy gaze. His smile immediately broadens.

"I don't need to tell you, right?" Kurt murmurs.

"Nope, you were pretty obvious there, Fancy." Dave places a gentle kiss on Kurt's upturned lips. A squeak is heard nearby and makes both of them glance in the direction of the intruding noise. Two girls, a few tables over, quickly try to hide behind a laptop and to camouflage their grins.

They look back at each other and start laughing. Kurt is the first one of the two to get a grip on himself. He pulls lightly on Dave's shirt.

"You're right David, enough of being on display. Let's get out of here."

Dave nods, grabs his stuff messily and follows Kurt out. Let's.


End file.
